The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back
Chapter 186: Her name

Chapter 186: Her name

She barely got the words out before Ethan’s phone shrilled in his pocket. He fumbled for it, glanced at the screen. The ringtone cut sharply through the tender moment. Then it rang again. And again. And again. The third time, Mara’s jaw tightened, her gaze locking onto the phone in his hand. It was vibrating so hard now that it looked like it might leap out of his grip.

"Please," she said, her voice tight, not unkind but firm, laced with weariness. "Answer it."

Ethan looked at her then, really looked, as if deciding whether to let her in or shut her out for good. There was something pained in his expression, a hesitation that made Mara’s stomach twist.

But finally, he swiped the screen, lifted the phone to his ear.

"Hey, boss—yeah, it’s Jonathan," the voice crackled over the line. Ethan’s face tightened, jaw working.

"Is that case settled?" Ethan asked, his voice clipped, careful, glancing once at Mara and the twins.

"No, boss," came the reply. "She didn’t want a lawyer. She wants to talk to you."

Ethan cursed under his breath, a sharp, frustrated sound. "Damn it."

He ended the call, shoving the phone into his pocket like it burned him. But the damage was already done — Mara was standing there, watching, waiting, the weight of every word unsaid thick between them.

She was tired. God, she was tired. Tired of the fights, the endless circles they ran, the ghosts that kept crawling out of their past. She wanted five minutes of peace. A clean, quiet moment where no one was chasing shadows.

But the way Ethan turned to her, the look in his eyes — she knew it wasn’t coming.

"Mara," he said quietly, stepping closer, reaching for her hand like a man asking for a lifeline.

She let him, confused, weary, her brow furrowed as his fingers curled around hers.

"There’s something I... you need to know."

"What is it, Ethan?" she asked, voice low, guarded, already bracing.

He hesitated, swallowed hard. "Maria-Isabel."

The name fell between them like a dropped stone in still water, ripples of old hurt and new betrayal spiraling out in every direction.

Mara’s breath caught, her stomach flipping. She yanked her hand from his grip as if his touch burned.

"Listen, Mara, it’s not what you think—"

"Don’t," she snapped, taking a step back, her chest rising and falling too fast. What the hell does Maria-Isabel have to do with him? Why was she calling him? Ethan opened his mouth, then shut it, guilt etched so deep in his face it was almost a confession on its own.

"Don’t you dare, Ethan." Mara’s voice cut through the space between them like a blade, sharp and cold and aching.

"You want to talk to me about Maria-Isabel?" Oh Ethan, the one who wrecked her life and thought she could sweep it under the rug with some weak apology? Her voice trembled, not from fear but from rage held too long, like a storm finally breaking.

"You are an unbeliever, Ethan. A liar in love’s clothing. Never, ever mention her name in my presence again. She’s dead to me, you hear me? Dead."

She didn’t wait for him to answer, didn’t give him the luxury of an explanation. Because she knew how his explanations went. Smooth words, easy lies, the kind that wrapped around your neck like silk and tightened when you weren’t looking.

Mara spun on her heel, her pulse pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. The twins were already bundled in the car, the guards hovering close. She stormed toward the van, her throat tight, her heart pounding against the cage of her ribs.

Ethan stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her leave like he always did, as if she’d circle back, as if some part of her still belonged to him.

And like a goddamn fool, a crooked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"You look cute when you’re pissed," he murmured to himself, almost like it was a private joke. A line from a time when she might’ve laughed, might’ve shoved his shoulder and rolled her eyes.

But now? Now, Mara didn’t even look back. She climbed into the van, slammed the door shut behind her,

Mara sat in the back seat of the van, her hands clenched so tight around the hem of her dress that her knuckles turned white. She stared out the window, the world a blur of colors, the city slipping past like a half-remembered dream.

She was angry. God, she was angry. And she didn’t even know why.

Hadn’t she said she didn’t care? Hadn’t she sworn she was done bleeding over Ethan Anderson? Hadn’t she promised herself that whatever lies he spun, whatever apologies he whispered in the dark, they meant nothing to her now?

Then why the hell did his voice saying Maria-Isabel feel like someone had reached inside her chest and squeezed?

Were they still in touch? Was he fooling her when he came crawling back with those broken eyes and half-meant apologies? Was it just for his pride — to prove he could still reach her, still matter?

Did he ever even want her back?

Those were questions she’d told herself she’d buried. Dead and gone. But now they crawled out of the ground, sharp-fanged and hungry, gnawing at her peace. And what made her angriest of all — angrier than the betrayal, angrier than the lies — was that some traitorous part of her still cared.

And she hated her heart for it.

Hated herself for letting a dead name shake her.

The twins’ soft coos and babbles in the backseat felt like another world, too soft, too innocent for the storm inside her head.

"Where to, ma’am?" the driver asked gently.

Mara didn’t even hesitate.

"Drop me off at the foundation," she said, her voice clipped, sharp. "Then you take the twins home."

The driver nodded, used to her moods by now. The guards shifted, readying to follow.

Mara leaned her head back against the cool leather seat and closed her eyes.

She needed air. She needed distance. She needed something that wasn’t Ethan, or Maria, or the echoes of the life she almost had.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.